


The Newcago Office

by Twi_the_Glitter_Goddess



Category: Reckoners - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Epics being ridiculous, Humor, Newcago, Newcago government shenanigans, Office AU type thing, Steelheart - Freeform, and set in Newcago, like if The Office was about Steelheart's government, sorta canon compliant, sorta not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-08-01 14:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16286564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twi_the_Glitter_Goddess/pseuds/Twi_the_Glitter_Goddess
Summary: Ever wondered what would happen if The Office was set in Newcago and followed Steelheart's government?You're about to find out.





	1. Episode One: Movie Night

_Exterior shot: a Newcago skyscraper, pure steel against the endless night. Switch to interior shot, where STEELHEART's government is headquartered. FAULTLINE sits at a desk, NIGHTWEILDER is across the room, and STEELHEART is crossing from one side to the other. FORTUITY enters, cape sweeping behind him._

FORTUITY: O _kay,_ who's ready for another movie night? 

_He raises a hand, as if waiting for a high-five. STEELHEART stops walking and looks directly into the camera._

FAULTLINE (voiceover): Fortuity is a precog. He can see the future, and if you ever forget that fact, he'll make sure he wanders near some construction site just so he can dodge whatever happens to be falling that day. 

_Camera cuts from FORTUITY seeking a high-five from NIGHTWEILDER to FAULTLINE sitting in an office_ _chair against the wall. She looks irritated, somewhat resigned._

FAULTLINE: He also does this thing were he disembowels people. Says it helps keep his powers sharp. And you know, I don't really have a problem with that? I mean, it's not  _my_ idea of a good time, but you know, Saturday night, you've had a few drinks, need to let loose…we've all been there. 

_She pauses, and her mouth draws into a disapproving line._

FAULTLINE: But he also makes movies. 

**********************

FORTUITY (voiceover): I don't just make  _films._ I make  _art._

_We see a clip from FORTUITY'S_ _second film,_ Sultry Cantaloupes in the Hands of Despair. _First we see a goat slowly chewing a dandelion; then the camera cuts to FORTUITY in his penthouse, shirtless but still wearing hat and cape, sipping a mint julep while studying a large grandfather clock._

FORTUITY (voiceover): True art is always misunderstood in its time.

_The film cuts back and forth between goat and FORTUITY._

FORTUITY (voiceover): That's just how it is. You think pre-Calamity college kids had to read _Ulysses_ 'cause it was  _good_? 

_The clock strikes four-fifteen._

FORTUITY (voiceover): So the key to making art is making something that people are going to spend  _years_ trying to puzzle out. Not only art that's misunderstood in its own time, but art that's misunderstood in  _every_ time. 

_FORTUITY springs to his feet, tipping his head back and pouring the mint julep over his chest as the goat, finished with its dandelion, begins to lick a post. Our camera cuts to FORTUITY in the present, once more in his penthouse, but fully clothed and no longer bathing in alcoholic beverages. He grins, spreading his hands._

FORTUITY: Bam. Art. 

**********************

_The camera cuts to STEELHEART'S palace, where the Emperor of Newcago is smashing a television on the floor._

STEELHEART: No, no one uses those anymore, but  _sparks_ if that isn't cathartic. 

_He sighs, walking to a window and peering out at the endless night._

STEELHEART: Yeah, I'm going to Fortuity's movie. Can't promise I'll watch it, though. I watched the first one.  _Le Spirit de la Primavera,_ it was called. I don't speak French or Spanish, and apparently, neither does he. It was….well, it was a movie. I wanted to cry by the end. Not 'cause it was sad, or happy, or anything. Just wanted to cry. And destroy something. I did the next day. Think it was some orphanage. Didn't make me feel any better. 

_We see a clip of STEELHEART browsing his phone in a darkened room._

STEELHEART: Now I just stay on my mobile the whole time. Not that it's any better. Do you have _any idea_ how many BuzzFeed quizzes I've taken? I didn't even  _want_ to know what kind of cheese I am, but now I know. I'm Gruyere.  _Thanks,_ Fortuity. 

_The camera cuts to NIGHTWEILDER, also in the palace, though located in a different area._

NIGHTWEILDER: I am Brie, apparently.  _He casts a quick glance over his shoulder._ Don't tell Steelheart, but I've always been curious about that. 

*****************

_We move to the interior of an overstreet apartment complex, in one of Newcago's nicer areas. Steel walls are painted in rich reds, greens, browns and golds. Tasteful paintings hang above the stairs and on the landing. A young woman in a yellow drop-waisted dress and pink cloche hat leads the way up to the second floor and down a hall, where she knocks on a door. A slightly younger woman, she in a blue dress of a similar style with a matching cap over her blonde curls, opens with a bemused smile._

YOUNGER WOMAN: Why're  _you_ knocking, sis? 

FIRST WOMAN (gestures to camera): Because these guys want to ask you about your date with Fortuity. 

_The younger woman's smile falls instantly._

YOUNGER WOMAN: Why? Does he want another one? 

_Interior: The sisters' apartment. The elder, whose name is JESSICA, heats a kettle for tea while the younger, OLIVIA, sits on a stool at the kitchen counter._

OLIVIA: Yeah, he likes…women. Pretty ones, mostly. Mom and Dad were always pretty loaded, so Fortuity and I kind of run in the same circles, and before you know it, he's asking me out to dinner and a movie. His movie, of course. It was….hang on, I wrote a review just after. 

_She scrolls through her mobile, reading from the screen._

OLIVIA: It was…'a stuffed mangrove yeast afraid of its tome.'

_JESSICA mirrors her sister's frown._

JESSICA: Maybe you meant 'years ahead of its time'? 

OLIVIA: Oh yeah, that makes more sense. And 'stuffed' was probably 'stupendous,' so—

JESSICA: 'A stupendous masterpiece years ahead of its time.' 

OLIVIA: There you go. I was pretty drunk when I wrote that. 

JESSICA: Maybe you should've turned off autocorrect? 

OLIVIA: Then it would've just been 'ASHKDHFIUSHFUIHDFUDSGHIUERJIHFFDHGTMEHJHG.'  _She pauses, frowning at her mobile._ Actually, I think that was my original review. 

****************

_Cut to FAULTLINE'S apartment. She stands at the window._

FAULTLINE: I don't get why Steelheart hasn't just killed that guy already. I mean, yeah, he's a precog, but how hard can it be? Just smash his face a few times and viola. No more movies. 

_Cut to STEELHEART'S palace._

STEELHEART: Look. I could kill Fortuity. Sure, he can see the future, but the guy's fragile as one of those ancient vases and a lot more annoying. But he's  _useful._ You kill your precog, you can't just go down to the supermarket and buy another one. Or—wait, can you? You're smiling, did you see one? Maybe a six-pack…no? Sparks. 

_FAULTLINE'S apartment._

FAULTLINE: Really, hiring Fortuity at all was a mistake. Hiring  _anyone_ who's only tolerable when you're sloshed is a bad idea. Pretty sure he wasn't thinking when he did  _that._

_STEELHEART'S palace._

STEELHEART: If I were going to kill Fortuity, I'd want a reason. You know Curb Appeal, over in Minneapolis? Yeah. That lady kills her Epics like nobody's business. Or she  _did,_ before the Pink Pinkness swooped in and returned the favor. And you know what they did for her? You know what those sparking slontzes did? They threw a  _parade._ She kills their leader, and they cart her around town like she's—like—like—like she's  _me_! 

_FAULTLINE'S apartment._

FAULTLINE: Actually, when was the last time Steelheart thought about  _anything_  he did? 

**************************

_FORTUITY'S penthouse. He stands behind the mini-bar which he has spent the past twenty minutes showing off. His smile has turned wry._

FORTUITY: Ah, yeah, Olivia was great. Lot of fun. 

_We see a clip from their date, two nights prior. FORTUITY exits his convertible, leaving OLIVIA to make her own way out. He laughs when she reaches his side._

FORTUITY: 'Bout time you caught up. 

_They walk to the door. FORTUITY releases her arm and moves toward another government Epic just inside the entryway. OLIVIA snags the arm of a redheaded young man in a server's uniform._

FORTUITY (voiceover): Sure didn't waste any time getting down to party. 

OLIVIA (to the server): Bring me a Pickford. 

SERVER: I'll have that for you in just a minute, ma'am. Where will you—

_OLIVIA casts a quick glance back toward FORTUITY before leveling a serious gaze and placing a handful of money in the SERVER'S palm. His eyes widen at the amount, before looking up at her again._

OLIVIA: The drinks are on his tab. That's a tip. 

SERVER: One Pickford. Right away.

FORTUITY (voiceover): And you know I like a girl who knows how to party. 

_We see several instances of OLIVIA speaking to the same server, who promptly brings her cocktail after cocktail, which she snatches from the tray and downs like water. The SERVER walks off with the tray under his arm and a clear "not my circus, not my monkeys" expression on his face. After a few rounds of this, the SERVER approaches the BARTENDER, staring at the money in his hand in confusion._

SERVER: She didn't place an order this time. She just gave me money and whispered 'Drunk.' 

_The BARTENDER sets a glass on the bar and retrieves several liquor bottles from a shelf._

BARTENDER: I'm on it.

_We cut back to FORTUITY in his penthouse, still grinning._

FORTUITY:  _And_ she was just  _riveted_ from the minute I put the movie on. It was an older one, not nearly my best work, but if she liked it, well. 

_Cut to OLIVIA in her apartment._

OLIVIA: Yeah, I was just trying to figure out what the sparks the movie was  _about._ I mean, I remember there was a goat. And an old Honda Accord. And they were on a train, for some reason? With some president, somebody who died  _way_ before Calamity. 

JESSICA: It wasn't Abraham Lincoln, was it? 

OLIVIA: No, this guy was big. And he had glasses….William Howard Taft!  _She slaps the counter._ That's who it was! William Howard Taft was in Fortuity's movie and he carried a fire hydrant around. 

JESSICA: ….

OLIVIA: …..

JESSICA: …..

OLIVIA: It didn't really make sense in context, either. 

************************

_FAULTLINE'S apartment. She has a small collection of handwritten journals open on her kitchen table._

FAULTLINE: So I've kept a diary of every stupid thing Steelheart has ever done. As you can see, it was too much for just one book. 

_She lifts one and reads aloud._

FAULTLINE: 'Year 2 AC. Steelheart was in top form today, ordering lunch at 10:51 AM. Claimed he was hungry, but I know better. He was trying to remind me that he's so godlike he doesn't need to bow to any pathetic mortal rules about when to eat a noontime meal. What. A. Slontze.'  _She flips a few pages._ 'Still Year 2 AC. Steelheart looked up at Calamity today. He didn't smile, but he didn't look at me, either. I know he was thinking about how Calamity  _clearly_ likes him better, if he got more powers than I did. Sparks, I hate that guy.'  _She turns another page._ 'Early Year 3 AC. Just before I went home for the evening, Steelheart opened a granola bar. He didn't offer me one. I have some at home, of course, but it's the principle of the thing….' 

*********************

_The lobby of the Reeve Playhouse. STEELHEART stands with arms folded._

STEELHEART: Yeah, it's movie night. I was going to try and schedule some meeting with some terrified peasants, but they all ran away as soon as I suggested it. Which, you know, good for the image, but it means I'm here.  _He sighs._ Least I've got my mobile. No, I'm not getting popcorn. You  _want_ Fortuity to think I'm happy to be here? 

_Cut to NIGHTWEILDER across the lobby. A giant tub of popcorn is balanced in his shadowy hands._

NIGHTWEILDER: What? It's a  _movie_. And yes, I do plan to eat this whole thing tonight. It's cheese popcorn. 

_Cut to a darkened room with a single giant screen. STEELHEART sits toward the back, mobile in hand. A quiz illuminates the screen: "Pick Some Unusual Things to Put on Your Pizza and We'll Tell You Whether or Not You're Secretly Steelheart." Suddenly, the large screen at the front of the room flickers to life. Moments pass as images play across the screen._

FAULTLINE: Fortuity? 

FORTUITY: Yes? 

FAULTLINE: Why did you film ten minutes of a cow chewing cud in front of a burning barn? 

_FORTUITY laughs. Cut to him outside the screening room. He laughs again and spreads his arms in triumph._

FORTUITY:  _Art!_

***************************

_Government headquarters, the next morning. FAULTLINE stands with her back to the door, a stack of papers held against her chest._

FAULTLINE: This, right here, is a list of all the awful decisions Steelheart has made over the past year alone. I'm going to go in and drop it all on his desk, demand an answer….and then.  _Then,_ I'll punch him in his stupid godlike face. 

_She glances over her shoulder, toward the window through which an abnormally large shadow can be seen across the floor._

FAULTLINE: It'll probably start a fight. I mean, a lot of things do. I once got into a brawl because somebody didn't like my hair. 'Hey, Faultline, your hair looks great! Probably spent, what, two minutes on it?' Har har har, it was two and a _half_ minutes, thank you very much, off to your funeral we go. It was a pretty nice funeral, too. I mean, not fancy, but decent. Can't say they were expecting me to show up. 

_She looks over her shoulder again, but makes no move toward the door._

FAULTLINE: No, I'm not nervous. Just want to….  _She breathes deeply._ Savor this moment, you know? Can't wait to see the look on his face when I  _prove_ everything I've written in secret and shoved under my mattress for the past few years. Then, once I'm Empress, I'll  _publish_ everything I've written. People are gonna read it and they'll say 'Wow, Empress Faultline, you _are_ way better than stupid Steelheart, just like you wrote in these diaries of yours! If we didn't know any better, we'd think  _you_ were a precog too!' 

_The door behind her opens, but she doesn't seem to notice._

FAULTLINE: Seriously, I'm going to  _trounce_ him in that fight he's going to pick. I mean, he's probably too busy preening his stupid beatnik ponytail right now, so I'll get the element of surprise. 

_STEELHEART'S massive chest fills the door._

STEELHEART: You sure about that? 

_FAULTLINE is silent, not turning around._

STEELHEART: Sorry it took me so long to get here. Got caught up preening my stupid beatnik ponytail. 


	2. Dumpster Diving

_Open on a steel plate bearing the words 'HERE LIES FAULTLINE.' The camera zooms out and we see they are carved into a piece of scrap metal with an arrow drawn beneath, pointing to FAUTLINE'S corpse lying in the middle of the street. Cars navigate around it. A middle-aged man in slacks and button-down shirt stands on the sidewalk. His name is LEONARD._

LEONARD: The overstreets got hit pretty hard. Couple blocks are just  _gone._ Which is probably the best you can expect, when somebody like Faultline picks a fight with Steelheart. 

_The camera pans over the nearby areas of the city, revealing several new holes in the skyline where buildings used to be, before cutting back to LEONARD._

LEONARD: Fortunately, I don't work too close to government headquarters. Close enough, but we got the place evacuated in time, and it turned out we didn't  _need_ to, so now I've got to work an extra hour instead of going home tonight.  _He sighs._ Mom's got to be worried sick….

_The camera pans, once again, to the street where FAULTLINE'S body is, before moving back to LEONARD._

LEONARD: The body should be gone pretty quick. No, there's no cleanup crew or anything—even if there was, I'm pretty sure Steelheart would want to leave it out as long as possible. Send a message, you know? But no. Epic bodies do weird things when they decompose. She'll be out of the street pretty quick. 

****************************

_Cut to the understreets. A woman with grey hair stands before an old playground, hands over her mouth. Her name is BOBBI._

BOBBI: He's okay? Leonard's okay?  _Pause._ You're sure? You talked to him?  _Another pause before the tension leaves her frame, and tears fill her eyes._ Oh thank God. Thank God. I was so worried—he was right  _there._ Right on the overstreets. The understreets didn't get hit too bad, but up there? They always get it worse when two Epics go at it. 

_As she speaks, people move about in the background. Most of them seem in a hurry to get where they need to go, none of them eager to spend much time out on the streets. One teenage boy in the distance freezes just within frame._

BOBBI: Fortunately, things have been pretty stable for the past couple of years. Steelheart did that—I'm sure you know, but….well, it never hurts to say it. 

_She gives a small and nervous laugh, her gaze wandering to the alley behind her. The teenager takes a few steps forward, partially hidden by people, but there aren't many places to hide and he is desperately looking for one. A knot of people walks past him, and when he is next visible, he is headfirst in a trashcan, feet in the air._

BOBBI: What the—did you—did he—I—I'm going to see if he's all right—hang on. 

_The camera follows her to the trashcan._

BOBBI: Excuse me, young man? Are you okay? 

TEENAGER (cheerfully): I feel just like a bunch of water that got poured into a  _really_ dirty glass full of dead spiders! 

_BOBBI frowns at the camera, then at the TEENAGER'S feet._

BOBBI: Is…is that a….yes? 

TEENAGER: Yep! I'm a little dirty, but I'm fine!

BOBBI: Um, okay…I'll just help you out and—

TEENAGER: No! I mean—I'm fine. Nothing I haven't dealt with before. I'm good. 

BOBBI: You sure? 

TEENAGER: Yep! 

_BOBBI does not look convinced, but after a moment she shrugs and moves away from the trashcan._

*********************

_Palace exterior. STEELHEART stands with cape billowing about him, the winds preparing to lift him into the air._

STEELHEART: As you already know, Fortuity makes a lot of movies, so I take a lot of BuzzFeed quizzes. 

_We see the interior of the Reeve theater room, where STEELHEART and the rest of his government are watching FORTUITY'S latest film._

STEELHEART (voiceover): Most of them are….well, I'd say 'fine,' but a lot of them are actually pretty annoying. Yet I keep taking them. I mean, it's either that or watch Fortuity gargle beans again. 

_In the theater, STEELHEART selects one of several options on his quiz._

STEELHEART (voiceover): But then last night, I took one where you were supposed to pick some weird pizza toppings, and it'd tell you if you were secretly me. 

_STEELHEART selects the final question on his quiz. The result appears on screen only a split-second before STEELHEART leaps to his feet._

STEELHEART:  _WHAT THE SPARKS?_

STEELHEART (voiceover): 'You are not Steelheart'! That's what it said! 

FORTUITY:  _Not the screen!_

_STEELHEART throws the mobile across the room just as his palms begin to glow. An energy beam flies toward the back of the theater, destroying two chairs, but STEELHEART has already turned away._

STEELHEART (voiceover): Can you  _believe_  that?  _I_ take the quiz.  _I_ answer with all the things  _I_ would put on my pizza, and that sparking slontze says  _I'm not Steelheart_! 

_He fires two more energy beams, one of which burns a hole through the screen. FORTUITY cries out as though someone has put ketchup on his hot dog and runs toward the front of the theater. We see NIGHTWEILDER offer FAULTLINE some of his popcorn, which she accepts, seconds before a final energy beam flies too close to one of the cameras, and the operator flees. We cut back to STEELHEART in front of his palace, raking fingers through his hair._

STEELHEART: Gah. Getting angry just  _thinking_ about it. 

_The camera shakes and zooms out as the operator scrambles backward._

STEELHEART: That sparking quiz was made by someone using the handle InsulationIsMahBae. Her identity is known, of course, but….agh. I would've gone to her this morning, but then the Faultline thing happened, and….well. I'll just have to pay her a visit  _now._

_He rises into the air and out of sight._

**************************

_Newcago's understreets. An Epic stands with arms folded, scowling at the camera._

REFRACTIONARY: Yeah, Faultline's gone now. Has been for a while—good thing, too. Do you have  _any idea_ how hard it is to drive with a sparking  _body_ in the middle of the street? 

_The camera pans over the street behind her, taking in the people going about their lives. No one seems interested in getting too close to REFRACTIONARY._

REFRACTIONARY: Look, we get it. It's a body, and it's in the road. That doesn't mean your sparking gas pedal doesn't work. 

_Some distance back, a teenage boy walks along, sipping from a noodle bowl. He lowers it, looks up toward the camera, and freezes._

REFRACTIONARY: Just go around, and for Calamity's sake,  _don't slow down_ or you  _will_ regret it.

_The teenager glances behind him, turning his face away from the camera, as if debating whether or not to walk backward out of frame._

REFRACTIONARY: Seriously, I got stuck behind this one slontze who slowed down for  _everything._ He slowed down for the body. He slowed down for the people in the street. He slowed down for the  _sparking crosswalk_! C'mon! I got places to go, people to see! You can guide your stupid kids across the street later! 

_Before the camera can zoom in and get a good look at the teenager, he gulps the rest of his soup, then flips the bowl up on its side and holds it to his face, walking confidently in the same direction he had been going._

REFRACTIONARY: This _town_. Calamity. I swear, nobody knows how to drive. 

*************************

_Interior: an apartment in the less well-maintained area of the overstreets. A young woman stands inside. Her name is MICHELLE._

MICHELLE: I like to make quizzes. Just silly ones, brighten somebody's day, you know? I mean, who  _doesn't_ want to know what kind of cheese they are? Cheese is nice. 

_We see a shot of MICHELLE creating a quiz._

MICHELLE: Sure, I go by a username, which I guess is kinda pointless since Steelheart knows who everyone is, but—

_The door to her apartment breaks from its hinges with a deafening crack. There in the doorway, filing it, is STEELHEART._

STEELHEART: InsulationIsMahBae, you've got some explaining to do! 

_MICHELLE blinks at him, at the door in his hand._

STEELHEART: Well? Explain! 

_She doesn't move or speak. She simply stares. STEELHEART tosses the door aside._

STEELHEART: I grow tired of waiting, InsulationIsMahBae! 

MICHELLE: That….that username sounded a lot less embarrassing before you said it out loud. 

*****************************

_Back to the understreets. An older woman named ROSE sits on a steel bench, a bit of knitting in her lap. She knits as she speaks._

ROSE: Yeah, I knit most of the day. Sell what I make, or give it to some kid who needs it. 

_The camera pans over the park. There aren't many children playing there, of course, but there are many other people. All of them seem to be older or middle-aged. No teenagers in sight._

ROSE: I finished a sweater the other day. Not my best work, but it's been so hard to find good yarn. Who would've thought turning an entire sparking city to  _steel_ might've had some negative fallout? 

_The camera pans back over the park, moving back toward Rose—and then stops._

ROSE: Anyway, gave it to a girl I saw. Poor thing was shivering, had a coat two sizes too small. Pretty sure it's the one she had on Annexation Day. Looked old and ratty enough, but she's got a sweater now. 

_The camera zips back, zooming in on a teenage boy who has bent over to pick something up off the ground._

ROSE: Anyway, it's not a lot of money, but every little bit helps. And, of course, this is pretty much what I did all day before Annexation, so it wasn't  _too_ much of a lifestyle change. 

_As if sensing the camera, the teenager looks up; he casts a panicked glance back down at the ground before pulling his leather jacket up over his head. It appears not to have a hood; he pulls the jacket itself over his hair and face._

ROSE: Now, I'm not complaining, but I have to ask—why were you so interested in my knitting anyway? 

_The mysterious teenager runs off in the opposite direction, jacket stretched between his elbows like some kind of bat wings, concealing his identity from the cameras._

ROSE: It's just not something I thought your crew would be interested in.

*************************

_Interior: an upscale restaurant. The chef stands awkwardly off to one side as MICHELLE spreads alfredo sauce over a circle of dough. STEELHEART leans against the counter, arms folded._

MICHELLE (voiceover): So Steelheart said that because I obviously didn't know what kind of things he liked to put on his pizza, I'm going to learn. 

_She places her hand over a bowl full of cooked shrimp, thinks better of it, and adds a thin layer of shredded mozzarella to the pizza._

MICHELLE (voiceover) It's really not that bad. I mean, I've never made pizza before, and I've never had pizza with shrimp on it, so, hey! New experience! 

STEELHEART: No peppers? 

MICHELLE: Oops! Sorry! 

_She adds a few fajita peppers to the pizza._

MICHELLE (voiceover): I mean, the other pizza, with peanut butter as the sauce was….not something I'd think to put on a pizza, but then again, I'm not Steelheart. 

_MICHELLE places the shrimp pizza into the oven._

MICHELLE (voiceover): I tried it, yeah. It…I mean, once you get past the feeling that you  _really_ need a glass of milk to wash it down, it's actually not half bad. 

_We see the pizza coming out of the oven, the chef slicing it up, and STEELHEART and MICHELLE each taking a slice. STEELHEART watches her carefully as, bite by small bite, she finishes the slice and gives him a thumbs-up._

STEELHEART: Now do you see what Steelheart would  _actually_  put on his pizza? 

MICHELLE: Yes, sir. 

STEELHEART: And are you  _sorry_ for spreading those  _lies_ about me and what sort of pizza I want when I want a strange pizza? 

MICHELLE: Yes, sir. 

_We see MICHELLE standing outside the kitchen, shrugging with a confused, somewhat desperate look on her face._

MICHELLE: I mean, I guess so? 

_Cut back to STEELHEART and MICHELLE in the kitchen._

STEELHEART: Good. Do something with these pizzas. 

MICHELLE: You don't want them?

STEELHEART: You made them. You decide what to do with them. 

_STEELHEART leaves. MICHELLE looks directly into the camera, panic simmering in her eyes. The chef puts a hand on her shoulder._

CHEF: Don't worry. I know lots of kids who'll eat  _anything._

************************

_Outside the restaurant, in a back alley. The door is open; the chef is handing a box to a familiar-looking teenager in jeans and leather jacket. The door hides his face. When he takes the pizzas, for a moment it seems he might turn toward the camera; but then he turns in the opposite direction. The camera follows. He turns sharply down an alley; the camera crew nearly misses the turn but doubles back just in time to see him make another turn, and then another. He pulls something from his pocket that might be a bag; we can't tell in the inconsistent light. He turns again, doubles back and turns yet again, and again, and then disappears from sight._

CAMERA OPERATOR: You kidding me? 

MICROPHONE OPERATOR: Kid's fast, I'll give you that. 

CAMERA OPERATOR: C'mon, kid, we just want to talk to—

_A familiar figure is just barely visible for a second before the empty pizza box spins into frame, knocking the camera askew. There are shouts and swearing from the camera crew. A voice comes from a source the crew doesn't seem to see._

TEENAGER: Watching you guys try to catch me is like watching a manatee try to fry up a bunch of donuts. 

MICROPHONE OPERATOR: Is…was…wait, is that an insult? 

_The teenager's voice is distant now, but still audible._

TEENAGER: Yep! 

 


	3. Episode Three: First Day

_EXTERIOR: Overstreets. An Enforcement officer stands, arms folded, surveying a pre-Calamity playground that is now completely steel and devoid of children. Her name is GOMEZ._

GOMEZ: As you can see, there was quite the battle here. 

_The camera pans over the playground before swooping back, as if searching for the damage. GOMEZ_ _signals the operator just as he begins to make another sweep, calling his attention to a slide._

GOMEZ: Right here. 

_The camera zooms in on her pointing finger, then zooms in yet again to reveal a dent in the steel near the top of the slide. It is deep, but somewhat small, clearly from a bullet._

GOMEZ: An as-yet-unidentified citizen gained Epic powers this morning. We're unsure whether or not he gained powers here at the playground, or simply moved here to test said powers out. I believe the damage he inflicted is self-evident. 

_The camera hovers on the dent for a moment before panning upward, then downward, searching for more. The operator turns on a flashlight and waves it over the slide, but the only additional dents are shallow and likely predate Calamity. When the camera at last pans back to GOMEZ, she holds her forehead in a gloved hand._

GOMEZ: Look, Morrison was there. You want details, talk to him. Just….play it up when you talk about what that Epic did, okay? Act like he took down half an office building and ate a whole noodle cart or something. 

******************************

_INTERIOR: Enforcement Headquarters. We find MORRISON seated in a chair at a steel table, filling out an electronic form on a tablet. His helmet is off and we see that he is quite young, perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old. In the next shot, he stands outside the same room he was just in, looking distinctly uncomfortable._

MORRISON: I mean, it's just my first day out in the field, but I've already heard stories. New Epics go crazy. Cause a ton of damage, know  _just_ how to use their powers, won't stop until you're dead. When we've got an officer down, it's usually 'cause they went up against a new Epic before Steelheart or Nightweilder or somebody could get there. Or, you know. Crossed a department Epic. Or a government Epic. Or an Epic at the supermarket. We….lose a lot of guys to Epics. 

_He looks down, realizes that he is hugging his helmet to his chest. With a sigh, he sets it on a nearby table._

MORRISON: And, you know, I expected an interesting first day, but…not like this. 

_We see surveillance footage from earlier that morning. The NEW EPIC runs into the park, pistol held in one hand. He fires a shot, which strikes nothing at all, despite the fact he is surrounded by dead trees and playground equipment. His second shot hits a slide, but his third hits nothing._

NEW EPIC: How d'ya like me NOW, you [bleep]s? 

MORRISON (voiceover): I'm still not sure how the sparks I took him down. 

_On the surveillance footage, a single officer—MORRISON—breaks off from his core. A second and third follow before their Epic can react._

MORRISON (voiceover): I mean, he's an Epic. I'm just a rookie. 

_One of the other Enforcement officers overtakes the NEW EPIC in a few bounds, and another runs out in front of the NEW EPIC. About this time, MORRISON runs up behind._

NEW EPIC: [bleep]! 

_MORRISON pauses a second or two before tapping the NEW EPIC on the shoulder. The NEW EPIC jumps, dropping his gun. One of the other officers snatches it up off the ground and tosses it to their core's Epic._

MORRISON (voiceover): Yeah….taking down a brand-new Epic? 

_The NEW EPIC, realizing his gun is gone, whirls just in time to see the core's Epic tossing it and catching it again._

NEW EPIC: Not  _fair!_ Give it  _back_! 

_Laughing, the core's Epic tosses it to MORRISON, who tosses it back to the core's Epic, beginning a group game of keep-away._

MORRISON (voiceover): Hardest thing I've ever done. 

*****************************

_INTERIOR: Some sort of holding cell. Unlike much of the city, this room is covered, from floor to ceiling, in concrete. The man at the center of it, however, appears pleasant—an older gentleman who speaks with a faint Indian accent. He is none other than CONFLUX._

CONFLUX: Oh, no, don't be fooled by my humble abode. It's actually rather nice. Except for the Angry Dog Days, when Steelheart brings in a bunch of angry dogs? _[laughs]_ I could do without  _those._

_We see a guard bringing in a tray, setting it down, and turning on his heel before he can see CONFLUX's cheery wave._

CONFLUX (voiceover): I get lots of visits from my friends. And if it all gets to be too much, I can always go for a walk to clear my head. 

_We see CONFLUX aggressively pacing from one end of his cell to the other. It's not a long walk. When we cut back to him in the present, he is beaming._

CONFLUX: But  _today_ has been a  _very_ good day. Do you want to know why?  _[He waits a beat; his smile falls a little.]_ No, I mean, I really want to know if you want to know or not. Because if you don't, I don't want to bother you—oh, you do? Okay. I'll tell you. 

_He bends down and lifts something up until it is level with his grin. It's a cookie—a snickerdoodle, from the looks of it._

******************************

_INTERIOR: Government headquarters. NIGHTWEILDER stands outside a door. A wistful smile is on his shadowy face._

NIGHTWEILDER: Ah, yes, I remember when I first got my powers. I began in London, Ontario. I remember that part very well—which is a little unusual, since everything else is a blur. The next thing I knew, I was belowdecks on a stolen yacht, surrounded by bodies. There were 472 pink Starburst beside me—don't ask me how I knew that because I didn't count them—and an empty flask that had at one point been filled with cheese soup. 

_We see bodycam footage from the officer approaching the yacht. Subtitles read LAKE ERIE: CLEVELAND, OHIO. The officer approaches the yacht slowly, hesitates, and lifts the hatch. Tendrils of shadow waft out like smoke, one of them waving dangerously close to the officer's camera._

NIGHTWEILDER: _[hisses]_

_The officer slams the hatch closed and jogs quickly away. We cut to NIGHTWEILDER in the present, who takes a sip from a flask that he straps back to his belt before opening the door and walking inside. The NEW EPIC slouches in a chair before at a steel table._

NIGHTWEILDER (cheerfully): All right. Now that you have powers, you will work for Steelheart. 

NEW EPIC: And what if I don't want to?

NIGHTWEILDER (still cheerful): Then you will be torn in half on live television to serve as an example to your peers. Now. You must choose a name. 

_The NEW EPIC seems to consider his options a moment._

NEW EPIC: Fine. I wanna be Steelheart too. 

_NIGHTWEILDER hesitates, stylus poised over his tablet._

NIGHTWEILDER: I….you…there….there's already a Steelheart. 

NEW EPIC: Yeah, I know. That's why I wanna be Steelheart too. 

_NIGHTWEILDER_ _blinks. The NEW EPIC rolls his eyes._

NEW EPIC: You write "Steelheart," okay? You put one of those little line thingies there, the kind that looks like an underline but there's nothing under it?

NIGHTWEILDER: An underscore? 

NEW EPIC:  _[smirks]_ Nerd. But yeah, an underscore. And then you put the number 2. Steelheart_2. 

_NIGHTWEILDER is silent for almost a full minute._

NIGHTWEILDER: I…that…that's not how this works….

***************************

_INTERIOR: The area outside CONFLUX's holding cell/humble abode. A guard, whose name is POLLOCK, rummages frantically through his lunch bag. After a minute of fruitless searching (although his search does return an apple) he looks up at his colleagues._

POLLOCK: All right, which one of you slontzes stole my cookie? 

_The guards trade glances. The camera cuts to CONFLUX, who has heard the whole thing from inside his cell._

CONFLUX: He left his lunch bag on the floor! What was I supposed to do? I was bored, I wanted to see what was inside, Steelheart doesn't bring me crossword puzzles or anything—not that I mind, he's a very busy man—but…really, who wouldn't have done what I did? 

_A second guard, whose name is SANDERS, answers._

SANDERS (off-camera): Look, man, we all know better than to go through somebody's lunch. 

CONFLUX: It…it's just one cookie. And I didn't take the rest of his lunch or anything. I didn't want him to go hungry. 

POLLOCK (off-camera): Seriously, what kind of slontze leaves a whole lunch and just takes the cookie?

_CONFLUX looks to the camera. He bites his lip…and then pulls the remainder of POLLOCK's cookie from his pocket and takes a small bite._

****************************

_INTERIOR: Government headquarters. NIGHTWEILDER is on his feet, pacing past the table where the NEW EPIC still sits, arms folded across his chest._

NIGHTWEILDER: What about Crackshot? That's intimidating. It's snappy. You could be Crackshot. 

NEW EPIC: And have everyone calling me Crackpot? Yeah, no thanks. I'll stick with Steelheart_The_Epic. 

NIGHTWEILDER: There's already a Steelheart, and he is an Epic. He rules this city,  _and_ he will kill you if you tried to steal his name. 

NEW EPIC: Good thing I'm not stealing his name, then. 

_For a long moment, NIGHTWEILDER simply stares. We cut to him standing outside the door._

NIGHTWEILDER: Give me  _one_ good reason why I shouldn't kill him right now. 

_The NEW EPIC appears at the window in the door, standing close to the glass._

NEW EPIC: Hey, Nightweilder! I got a new one! 

_NIGHTWEILDER does not respond. He closes his eyes, clenches his fists, and draws a deep breath._

NEW EPIC:  _Steelfart!_ Can I be Steelfart? 

NIGHTWEILDER: One….good….reason. 

****************************

_INTERIOR: CONFLUX's cell. He sits in a corner, cradling the cookie in both hands._

CONFLUX (voiceover): I know I need to tell him, but…how do you tell one of your own guards you stole his cookie? 

_He raises the cookie to his lips and takes another small bite._

CONFLUX (voiceover): I don't get cookies very often. I…I miss them. But having one around is dangerous. 

_Footsteps sound on the floor. CONFLUX doesn't seem to hear. His entire focus in on the cookie, which he gazes at with a sorrowful expression. He doesn't see POLLOCK approach._

POLLOCK: Whatcha got there? 

_CONFLUX shoves the cookie into his mouth but doesn't chew it, gazing at POLLOCK with wide eyes._

POLLOCK: Wait…was that my cookie? 

**************************

_INTERIOR: STEELHEART's palace. STEELHEART is lying sideways across his throne, legs draped over one arm, mobile raised over his head. FORTUITY approaches; STEELHEART hangs his head upside down just long enough to see the precog, lets out a small groan, and goes back to swiping his finger across the screen._

FORTUITY: You'll want to start heading toward government HQ. There's something you've got to see. 

STEELHEART: Save it for when I've beaten my high score. 

FORTUITY: It hasn't happened yet, but trust me, you'll want to be there when it does. 

_STEELHEART rolls his eyes._

STEELHEART: You're the precog. Tell me what I'm gonna miss. Describe it for me. 

FORTUITY: I can't. It's too dumb. 

_STEELHEART finally turns in his chair, staring at FORTUITY as if waiting for him to drop the ruse. He does not._

*****************************

_INTERIOR: Government headquarters. NIGHTWEILDER stands at one side of the room, shadows swirling dangerously about him. The NEW EPIC stands behind the table, hands pressed against it, supporting his weight._

NIGHTWEILDER: I am warning you—

NEW EPIC: No,  _I'm_ giving the warning! 

NIGHTWEILDER: I should kill you right now— 

NEW EPIC: I am an _Epic_ —

NIGHTWEILDER: A tiny, inconsequential, pitifully fragile—

NEW EPIC: And when you speak to me, you will address me by my  _name—_

NIGHTWEILDER: I will not say that name, you cannot make me sully my lips with that name—

_NIGHTWEILDER looks up as the door opens. The NEW EPIC has his back to it and does not see Steelheart walk through._

NEW EPIC:  _And my name is Steelheart_666_blazeit_YOLO!_

_NIGHTWEILDER does not answer, and for a few seconds the NEW EPIC gives him a victorious look. Then he follows NIGHTWEILDER's gaze, and sees STEELHEART staring right back at him. There is no anger in his expression—for now. He is too flabbergasted by what he's heard._

STEELHEART: No, it's not. 

_The entire room plunges into silence. The NEW EPIC stares at STEELHEART, blinking, not saying a word._

NEW EPIC: Yes…yes sir. I mean, no sir. I mean….yeah. That. Not my name.  _[He gives an awkward double thumbs-up.]_ Cool. All cool. 

***************************

_INTERIOR: Outside CONFLUX's cell._

POLLOCK: I mean, the poor guy lives in a box. Can't really blame him for stealing a cookie. Just wish he hadn't taken  _mine,_ you know? 

_The camera cuts to inside the cell, where CONFLUX has stopped in his tracks. A small, flat, foil-wrapped circle has been slid through the flap and onto the floor._

POLLOCK (voiceover): But in the end, it's just a cookie. And I can always bring another one. 

_CONFLUX unwraps the foil. A smile spreads across his face and he sinks to the floor._

POLLOCK: 'Cause if the Epic's happy, everyone's happy, right? 

_CONFLUX takes a bite of his cookie, savoring every bit of it._

*****************************

_INTERIOR: Government headquarters. The NEW EPIC stands outside the door to the room he was just in, arms folded across his chest, looking like he's one word away from rolling his eyes._

NEW EPIC: So I'm Curveball now. Not much else to say about that, aside from the fact I was  _bullied_ into choosing a name  _I didn't want_!

_He raises his voice for the last three words, and is answered with a bolt of energy that cuts through the door and melts the floor not six inches from his foot. Terror passes over his face for just a moment before settling back into irritation again._

CURVEBALL: You know, they might call me Curveball, but I'll always be Steelheart_666_blazeit_YOLO in my heart. 

STEELHEART (off-camera): No you won't. 

_CURVEBALL lets out a noise halfway between a sigh and a growl._

 


End file.
